Don't think so

I don’t like to filter my thoughts and words. Yes I think the world is fucked up, media is corrupt, the government is behing most horrors we face, including the 9/11 and all kinds of armed actions. Yes, i think it is for the profit of few, and we need to do something about it. Nevertheless, depending when I bring up certain issues, I have been accused of being a conspiracy theorist, being asked to stop. And facing words such as “I don’t care”, “Bullshit”, and “you are crazy”.

Well, you should care, it is not bullshit, just the truth that is not convenient to know or live with. Nevertheless it needs to be known.

So, if you have not done so yet, I strongly recommend you watch Zeitgeist and explore the Spread the Word website (the link is available).

Also, here you go, finally:

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/huff-wires/20080116/ex-congressman-indicted/

Train Hopping

Train Jumping and the St. Louis underground are surely among the plans for spring. A cargo train trip to Chi-town and mysterious explorations of the semi-secret caves…

As far as trains go, I even got a chance to jump one last night. It was a coal transporter. Moving really slow through the downtown area, so it was easy to run, catch up, grab on, and you are on your way…somewhere. Fueled by a grand anticipation of adventurous freedom and mischief. The great tale collector.

But this was just a practice hop, so it only went on for ¼ mile or so. Nevertheless, very encouraging.

I did learn something about train operators recently. When you look at the railroad maps, they seem so grand and free. I remember thinking that engineers must be so glad to have a chance to travel so much. But then I found out that on those long distance routs, any particular train engineer only gets to travel a short distance, then having to return back to the starting point. So instead of discovering, and seeing the land, they end up moving only within that short stretch, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth… always…

That is a depressing thought to me. It seems that even fun things when made into a job become, boring, ordain and dismal.

During that whole train pasting experiment we saw some sort of weasel looking animal laying there cut perfectly in half over a track. It seems that he was trapped under a train, could have waited for it to pass, and instead went for that last leap to freedom.
It was so strange and shocking to see. The front part of his body, lays there stretched out, soaring for liberty, hindered by heavy metal destiny. Chilling yet poetic.

On Art

And so...

The conversation started with a discussion of a documentary film. It features some ex-trucker lady relating the purchase story of a supposedly Jackson Pollok piece of art. The woman is a vigorous smoker with an 8th grade education, who loves gambling and knows nothing of art. She got the painting unknowingly for $5 at a thrift store and is now, having learned of its value is declining offers of as much as $20 million.

Now we have critics analyzing it: "I'm looking for the cracks in the, in the paint, and the way the paint is applied. That is, layering of one color on top of another. Makes me uncomfortable. This stuff, it just doesn't, this doesn’t look like a Pollock. Doesn't feel like a Pollock, doesn't sing like a Pollock, doesn't fail like a Pollock" – Ben Heller

While others argue otherwise. Setting the possible value of the piece as high as $100 million.

I find this revolting.

Yes, I consider myself and art lover. I enjoy the modern and the abstract, though appreciate the classical form, technique and craft. but I find is grose that $20 million is not enough for her. I find it even more concerning that someone is willing to pay that much or more for something, that is no more than paint and canvas though it may be a creation of a recognized artist.

Yes I love art and consider it valuable. One can argue that it gives a people their identity and is a source of pride. Heritage, history, landmark. Sometimes even a period in time. A definition and expression of a country’s dynamic and soul perhaps.

What comes to mind when you think of Moscow? Probably the golden onion top churches. London? – The Big Ben. Egypt and the pyramids. Great.

But at the same time could you argue that we often go too far with this fascination with art? Especially considering the larger more important problems at hand. And why do we never think of what it may have cost to create it?

St. Basil’s Cathedral, the very one in Moscow was commissioned by Ivan the Terrible and built between 1555 and 1561. Legend has it that on completion of the church the Tsar ordered the architect, Postnik Yakovlev, to be blinded to prevent him from ever creating anything to rival its beauty again. That is just one person, think of how many may have died during construction. How many were enslaved at the time.
What about the Great Pyramids that we all so marvel at the sight of. Though we are always uncertain about those times, there were most likely quite a few slaves involved in the construction of the temples.

Naturally there are many examples such as there tough out history. What impeccable amount of time, calculation, resources, labor spent on structures. That are…art? Heritage? Identity?

At the same time you have unrest in the lands, people starving or dying of sickness. But now they have an identity. It is so easy to fuel the herding instincts. We always need to be part of a group to be united and to have an enemy, since nothing unites us more than an enemy and the struggle against him.

You have an identity and a people. Then you have a patriot. One who loves and defends his or her own country. An enemy was always easy to find. If they don’t attack first, point your finger. Go!

Ok, I realize this is wrong to say. But really then what about the Palm Islands in Dubai, costing billions of dollars, do they make Sheikh Mohammed Al Maktoum a great artist? Or is it just a business project to attract tourists?

Anyway, all I am trying to say is that we have strange value systems. And it seems that our perceived abilities and freedoms such as the purchasing one often constrict our perceptions and lives more so than they should. But where that “healthy balance” is I have no idea.

I mean look at me, I just invested $70 in a bunch of short film collections when I could have spent it satisfying the basic needs of myself or others…

This all means nothing, I guess that’s what blogs are best for.

Cockroach explorations

Well, this is a rather new thing for me. I know I am way behind. People have been blogging for yeas.

What will I discuss here, now that I have a reserves space of my own?...who knows, I suppose whatever is on my mind and I find interesting enough to talk about.

And the last but most pressing thing on my mind, as of yesterday has been the following: cockroaches. Yes. According to Encyclopedia Britannica, "a roach any of about 4,000 species of insects that are among the most primitive living, winged insects, appearing today much like they do in fossils that are more than 320 million years old. The word cockroach is a corruption of the Spanish cucaracha." Wow, 320 Million years is a long time, especially considering that DNA evidence indicates that modern humans originated in Africa about 200 thousand years ago.

So these little (or not so little) annoying critters are supposedly much more resistant to radiation, can live up to 9 days or in some cases a month beheaded! Can hold their breath up to 40 minutes, can live up to 40 days without food and don't often have to do so, as they can feed off something as insignificant as the fat in a finger print. They survive a week without water and can be frozen just to live again when the temperature does up. Wow! Miracles of science. No wonder they can be hard to get rid of.

Well, as for myself and the apartment, we don't have a cockroach "problem" per say, I am a cleaning freak at times, so all that we encounter is but a concern. I find them every so often on the kitchen floor. Most of the time they are dying or dead.

The things lay there, on the linoleum, with their little legs crossed in peace on the chest, lightly convulsing and every so often moving the whiskers. As I know they don't live in my kitchen on permanent basis, I can't help but wonder about the following issues:

1. Why do they seem to come to my kitchen to die?

2. Why do I always find them dead on their back?

Well, the following are some of my theories concerning the questions at hand:

As far as why they are on their back in the middle of the kitchen floor...perhaps having spent much of their life running around, and hiding in unappealing places such as gutters and cracks, they simply want to finally rest, lay down, and enjoy the open space of the area.

Or, perhaps they want to look dramatic possibly also hoping for a good funeral. Going back to the whole "Falling tree in the forest", everyone needs a witness to make his or her existence more real. Realizing that the end is near, they expose themselves to me, as if crying out, while trembling a leg "Oh! God! I am dying! See, witness my sufferings! Burry me like I should be buried....Remember my last moments, write about my travels and sufferings." And then- "here are the last of my eggs, take care of my babies for me".

Now, why choose my kitchen?...I have been told to have a good energy about me, that apparently transposes itself to my place. Thus making it a heaven for lost souls looking for rest…maybe…

I still cleaned my kitchen and equipped it with insane amounts of cockroach traps. Though I am a bit fascinated with the things it is a sort of respect your greatest nemesis type fascination. Even though I have no problem at all with other insects (other than fleas) As I am pretty sure I have Blattodephobia (if that is a real word)